


I Didn't Want This, But Now I Can't Lose It

by MissMR



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Friends, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Open Ending, maybe lovers too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:06:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23664352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMR/pseuds/MissMR
Summary: It had only been a week since Wells’ funeral, and two since Clarke received the call in the middle of the night that changed her life. Clarke never thought she’d be 30 and having someone read her best friend’s will. If anything, Wells was supposed to be a beneficiary to her will first. She was the one who took risks. She was the one who broke rules, and Wells was the one who followed them. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.And, Clarke was definitely not supposed to be a mom, but it’s what the letter said. It’s what Wells wanted.(Or, Clarke never wanted to be a mom, but when Wells dies, Clarke doesn't have much of a choice since he makes her the guardian to his daughter.)
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Madi
Comments: 4
Kudos: 120





	I Didn't Want This, But Now I Can't Lose It

**Author's Note:**

> So, I have no idea where this came from. I've been working on it on and off for about three weeks maybe a month now. I'm not even sure if I like it or what I was thinking when I started writing it. Anyways, I hope you like it if you decided to read it!

There were many things Clarke had pictured for herself in the future, but she could say that being a mom was a role she’d never thought she’d play in life. Maybe it was because she was never with someone long enough that made her fantasized about what would come next. She never thought about her _dream wedding_ or thought about her future children’s name. No, Clarke wasn’t meant to be a mom. The closest Clarke thought she would get to be a mom was through her friends, and their horrible habit they have of calling her mom. 

But here she was clearing at her spare bedroom that she used as an art studio for her niece that was sort of her responsibility now. Not sort of, but real responsibility. Given the fact that Clarke was now her niece’s legal guardian.

It had only been a week since Wells’ funeral, and two since Clarke received the call in the middle of the night that changed her life. She couldn’t even remember the drive to the hospital or how she woke up in the Jaha’s house the next morning, but she definitely remembered the lawyer sitting her and Thelonious down at the dining table to read over Wells’ will. Clarke never thought she’d be 30 and having someone read her best friend’s will. If anything, Wells was supposed to be a beneficiary to her will first. She was the one who took risks. Hell, Clarke dropped out of medical school when the finish line was right around the corner because her heart _just wasn’t in it anymore_ and pursued her art. She was the one who took (or stole, depending who you ask) her mom’s car at 16 with her learner’s permit for a joy ride with Wells right there in the passenger’s seat begging for her to go back. She was the one who broke rules, and Wells was the one who followed them. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

And, Clarke was definitely not supposed to be a mom, but it’s what the letter said. It’s what Wells wanted.

_Dear Clarke,_

_If you’re reading this, well it means that I’m not around anymore. I never thought I’d have to write a letter like this because I never thought about the things I’d leave behind. The money, my house, all my other materialistic possessions mean nothing to me. But I did think about the people I’d leave behind, but what would happen to them after I was gone never bothered me so much._

_My dad, if I do leave this world before him, will have you and your mom to lean on. It’ll be hard for him, but he’ll be okay. I know he will because you’ll make sure he will be. It’s just the type of person you are._

_And, you Clarke. You’ll be okay, too. It’ll be hard, and you won’t let anyone know you’re in pain, but it’s okay if you do. You’re strong and resilient, and you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. I always tried to help. You were never much of a team player, but you and I made the perfect team. It’s why in fifth grade we were the three leg race champions._

_I’m sorry I left you without a partner, Clarke._

_But I need to ask something from you, a big something. It was always you and my dad that were the two most important people in my life, but that changed when Madi came into the picture. She’s who I’m most worried about, and that’s where my big ask comes in._

_I know I never gave you the story of how she became mine, and honestly, it doesn’t matter because she’s my daughter, and she’s the reason why I’m writing this letter in the first place. I made a promise that I’d take care of her and love her like she was my own, and I have. I will continue to do this for as long as I live, but in case something happens to me, in case I can’t anymore, I need you to take care of her for me, Clarke._

_It’s a big ask, but I can’t think of anyone else I’d trust more with her than you. I need you to show her everything I didn’t have time to show her. You have such a kind heart when you let people see it. It’s why Madi took a liking to you the moment she met you. She’s a lot like you. Both of you wear an armor that protects you from everyone, and it took me ages to pierce my way through. I’m hoping you two will show each other that it’s okay to let other people in because as much as she’ll learn from you, you’ll learn from her._

_This isn’t an irrational thought. I’ve weighed all options, and this is the best choice. Take care of my daughter for me. I love you, Clarke._

_May we meet again._

_Wells_

Eight years ago, Wells came back from his Peace Corps mission with a six year old. He didn’t say anything about how he now had a child or why. All he said about the young girl was that her name was Madi, and she was his daughter now. And Clarke, she didn’t ask for any explanation. Wells had given her a number of free passes, so it only seemed fair to give him one every once in a while.

But now, Madi wasn’t Wells’ daughter anymore. She was kind of, in a way, Clarke’s. Even though, Clarke hadn’t yet fully accepted the reality of the situation.

As Clarke moved the last of the boxes to her bedroom, she heard a knock at the front door and froze. They were early. Clarke thought she had a little longer to be a single 30 year old woman only responsible for herself. She wanted to finish the open bottle of Pink Moscato that had been sitting in her fridge for the last three days and watch trashy reality TV. She wanted a moment to grasp it all (because two weeks was not nearly enough).

But there was no time for all of that.

The knock only told her one thing. Now, she was a 30 year old single woman responsible for a teenager, and she wasn’t sure if she could do it.

With heavy footsteps, she walked to her front door. The metal felt cold under her touch, and for one selfish second, Clarke thought about not answering the door. She could change her mind. Thelonious and the lawyer said she didn’t have to agree to take Mad, that it was an option to have Madi stay with Thelonious. Wells was selfless and never asked anything from anyone. Clarke wouldn’t be able to live with herself if she denied her best friend the last, and possibly the first, thing he would ever ask of her. So, Clarke took a deep breath and opened the door.

“Hey, Clarke,” Madi said, and the first thing Clarke noticed was Madi’s deathlike grip around the strap of her backpack.

The teen probably had the same reservations about the arrangement that Clarke did, but Clarke couldn’t show Madi any hesitation.

“You weren’t answering your phone,” Madi continued.

Already Clarke felt like she had failed, and Madi hadn’t even officially been in her care.

“Oh! I’m sorry. I think I might have silenced it.”

“It’s okay, but Grandpa Thelonious wanted me to ask you if you can help with my things.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Let me put shoes on.” Clarke took a step back and watched as Madi nodded and turned, still holding the strap. “You know, Madi,” the teen looked over her shoulder at Clarke, “if you want you can leave your backpack here…in your room.”

Madi looked at her hand and shook her head. “It’s okay. I’ll just meet you at the car,” she said and continued her way towards the elevator, and Clarke hoped this wasn’t what the future looked like for the two of them.

Maybe it was a mistake to call it Madi’s room so soon, but that’s what it was. Having Madi move in her two-bedroom apartment wasn’t ideal, but it’s what Madi wanted. Clarke had every intention of moving into Wells’ house. She hated the idea, but to move Madi out of the home she known for the last seven years (Wells bought a home as soon as he could because he wanted to give Madi a home) felt wrong to have Madi make the move. But she insisted. It was the one thing she asked when she learned Clarke would be her guardian, and Clarke didn’t question it.

If anything, she understood it.

When Clarke’s dad died her freshmen year of college, she went to his loft days after the funeral and packed everything up without her mom’s permission (Clarke thought her mom lost any right when she asked for the divorce) and donated everything, besides his wrist watched that he wore every day that now wrapped around her wrist every day (she selfishly couldn’t bury him with it), a few of his flannels and t-shirts, and his book collection (even though Clarke wasn’t the most avid reader) because her dad always had a book in his hands. And the loft, she put it on the market. Clarke couldn’t see the point in holding onto everything. It wouldn’t bring him back.

Maybe Madi thought the same thing.

When Clarke got down to the ground floor, there were more than two people unloading the moving trailer and she has to remind herself not to audibly groan. 

“Hey, Thelonious,” Clarke called out.

Thelonious turned sporting a smile, and for the first time, Clarke saw the similarities between his and Wells’ smile. She immediately thought about how this was going to be the closest she could get to actually seeing it.

As quickly as the thought came, Clarke pushed it away.

When she reached them, Thelonious pulled Clarke into a hug.

“Hey. Mr. Blake, here, was just helping us unpack Madi’s thing.”

“Hello, Clarke.” Her neighbor smirked at her.

Her stomach once fluttered with butterflies at the sight of Bellamy’s smile. It was the way he wore it with too much confidence because he knew he was turned heads with his dark curly hair and freckles that littered his face. He was too handsome if that were even a thing. Fuck it, Clarke knew it was a thing because it applied to Bellamy Blake.

But the butterflies that once fluttered went away when he stormed over to her apartment and yell at her three years ago.

She had only been living in her new apartment for a month, and maybe her music was playing a little too loud and maybe she had one glass of wine too many, but she had just sold her first painting for a commission, so a celebration was in order. So, damnit, she was going to celebrate. Mostly because her mom had told her she was making a mistake, but the check that was in Clarke’s purse with her name on it said otherwise.

Bellamy could have kindly asked if Clarke could turn it down, but instead, he banged on her door wearing a t-shirt with the sleeves cut off and one of his nipples peeking out paired with pajama bottoms that hung a little low and thick black framed glasses that added a level to his sex appeal. He had demanded she shut the music off and call it a night, but it was only 9 pm on a Friday night. If she wanted to be a little loud and a little drunk in the comfort of her new apartment, she damn well would. So, when she snapped out of her drunk haze long enough to stop gawking at him, she told him to fuck off and slammed the door in his face then proceed to turn the volume up.

It was safe to say they weren’t exactly friendly after that.

“Hello, Bellamy.”

Clarke ignored Thelonious’ not so subtle glances between her and Bellamy. He knew about the relationship between them. Wells teased her whenever he had the chance and claimed that the tension that existed between her and her neighbor derived from the fact they were attracted to each other but hated each other all the same. And on more than one occasion, Thelonious had been present to witness the teasing or the standoffs she and Bellamy had when she hosted dinner nights at her apartment.

“Hey, Mr. Blake, do you mind helping Madi up to the apartment? Clarke and I will be right behind you two.”

Bellamy looked at Clarke and grinned, but it didn’t reach his eyes. Their relationship changed the night Wells died, and Clarke hated it because she knew it came from pity.

That night she had wailed and thrown her phone across her apartment’s living room hitting the wall that separated their apartments, and he rushed over, but not to tell her to keep it down.

He knocked on her door and called out to her name, but it didn’t ring with the rough wrath Clarke had grown accustomed to. Instead, there was a heavy amount of worry. She couldn’t even bring herself to open the door right away. She mindlessly moved around her apartment grabbing her keys and broken phone, and once she finally opened her door, Bellamy was on the ground with his back against the wall. She didn’t remember much of what happened after that.

“Yeah, no problem. I’ll even get my friend Miller to come over to help haul up the furniture.”

Right as Thelonious was about to refute the offer, Bellamy held up his free hand.

“I insist,” he said, making Thelonious laugh.

Thelonious waited until Madi and Bellamy entered the building, both with boxes in their hands before he started to speak.

“Are you sure about this, Clarke? I know this was what Wells wanted, but if you aren’t—”

“I want to do this.” Clarke stopped him before he could go on. “So, yes, I’m sure about this. I know what it’s like to lose a dad, so I know how she’s feeling. I want to help her.”

“I just wish I knew why she didn’t want to stay at their house.”

Clarke sighed. “It’s because it’s too painful to be there without him. It’s why I sold my dad’s loft instead of moving into it.”

He nodded. “I think my son knew what he was doing asking you to take in Madi. I’ll admit I was a bit spectacle, but I understand his decision now.”

“If I’m being honest, I’m still struggling to. But I want to do this. For Madi. For Wells.”

“I miss him every day.” Thelonious bowed his head, and Clarke reached out to grab his forearm.

“So do I.”

“We’ll get through this.”

Clarke knew they would, but she also knew it would take time.

* * *

It has been five days since Madi had moved in. It was also the same number of interactions that the two of them have had that went beyond the casual checking in with one another. Madi mostly kept to her new room, and Clarke didn’t want to push too much. Nothing good would come out of it. When Madi was ready to spend time out of her bedroom, she would. That was one thing Clarke was sure, so until then, Clarke hung out in the open living spaces, and the time she spent in her room the door stayed open. Madi needed to know Clarke was open and available to her when she was ready.

One afternoon Clarke was in the living room sketching. The muffled music coming from Madi’s room filled the silence of the apartment. She had peeked in Madi’s room earlier in the day while Madi was showering, and most of Madi things were still packed away in the boxes and untouched. The walls were still bare even though Clarke told Madi it was fine to hang posters, pictures, or anything else she wanted to put up. She even offered to go to the hardware store to get any color paint, and all Madi did was shrug with a soft “maybe”.

Clarke understood. She really did. She was just as withdrawn when her dad passed away. Wells hated that she locked herself away and threw herself in her schoolwork and anything else she could to keep her distracted. After two months, he had had enough and showed up to her dorm room and dragged her out to get lunch, and it was on the walk back to campus that she broke down.

But Clarke needed space before she could, so if Madi needed that same space, Clarke would give it to her…until it came time to step in.

Wells was staring up at her from her lap. His kind eyes and smile that made anyone feel welcomed. She ran her fingers along the lines of his face. She has drawn him more times than she can count. He was the first face that she had attempted to draw. He had sat for hours on end as she studied his face, too afraid to move in fear of Clarke making a mistake because of him.

The moment Clarke got home from his funeral she had started drawing him. The Wells they had sent into the ground wasn’t the Wells she’d known, not the Wells she grew up with. He looked pale and wore a green tie Clarke was sure Wells would hate (Madi had thought so too as it was the first thing she said to Clarke once they were alone in the car). His warm smile was missing along with his bright eyes. He was the shell of a man she once called her best friend, and Clarke didn’t want to remember him like that. So, when she got home, she started to sketch him from memory to make sure the image of him was still clear.

She was worried about the day she started to forget and would need a reference to make sure she was able to match the likeness of his eyes or to make sure to didn’t forget the slight dimple on the left side above his lip.

“His smile always made my day better.” Clarke jumped at the sound of Madi’s voice.

“I didn’t hear you come out.”

“Yeah. I was just gonna get some water,” Madi said, but she hadn’t looked away from the sketch, “then go back to the room.”

Clarke didn’t miss how Madi didn’t call the bedroom hers. In the almost week Madi had been living in the apartment, she hadn’t referred to the place as hers. It was always Clarke’s home or the room. Clarke knew it was going to take time, but this was what Madi had asked for.

“Well, I was about to get started on dinner.”

That got a laugh out of Madi. Usually, Clarke would feel offended, but it was nice to hear something so light come from the teen. So instead, Clarke smiled because truth be told she wasn’t much of a cook. Take out and microwavable food was substantial enough to survive off of. It might not have been the best diet, but it was food.

“You’re going to cook?”

“I was going to try.”

Madi shook her head, a trace of a smile still on her lips, but before she could tell Clarke how bad of an idea that was, someone knocked on the door. Madi made no move to answer. She glanced at Clarke, her eyes asked if Clarke was going to answer it, and Clarke added it to the list of things that showed how uncomfortable Madi was in her new _home._

Clarke placed her sketchbook on the coffee table, and Madi picked it up and sat down where Clarke just vacated. For a second, Clarke thought about offering the sketch to Madi, but selfishly she couldn’t.

That sketch was too special to her. Clarke could and would draw one specially done for Madi.

When Clarke finally opened the door, she didn’t expect to see Bellamy holding a box of pizza with his all too blinding smile.

“What are you doing here?” The question left Clarke’s mouth before she could stop herself. Not that she would have. The had a relationship—neighbors who loathed each other. It was simple. But Bellamy didn’t seem vexed by the hostile question. He laughed, and Clarke felt a pull on the corner of her lips, but she chalked it up to the leftover relief of hearing Madi’s laugh.

“I come bearing a peace offering.”

Clarke scowled at the box like it was going to explode the moment it touched her hands.

“It isn’t going to hurt you. It’s just a pepperoni pizza. I thought you and Madi might be hungry.”

“The peace offering is really for Madi’s benefit, isn’t it?”

“Well, I don’t think it would go too well with me coming over here to yell anymore since you have a kid now.”

“I’m not her kid,” Madi said, her voice getting closer to the door, and Clarke told herself not to wince at the words that were laced in indignation.

“I’m sorry,” Bellamy said, and once Madi stood next to Clarke, Bellamy continued with, “I know you aren’t. I just meant that there’s a kid, well a teenager, living here now, and I don’t think it would go over well with you if you had front row seats to our shouting matches.”

Madi shrugged. Clarke hated that damn shrug. It wasn’t one linked with an attitude she expected to see from a teenager or one that was blowing off something being told to them. This was a shrug that said Madi had discontinued herself from a situation (or the world).

“It wouldn’t be too bad. Is that for us?” She nodded towards the box.

“Yeah, it is.” Bellamy held out the box.

“Cool. Thanks. Saves me from having to eat Clarke’s cooking,” Madi said as she took the pizza from Bellamy’s hands and into hers. “Do you want to come in and have a slice with us?” Madi asked Bellamy, and this should make Clarke happy.

Madi was inviting someone over, but it was a neighbor that she suddenly had a civil relationship with. And, Clarke also knew the real reason Madi was doing it.

Before Bellamy had shown up, she and Madi were teetering the lines of a dangerous subject. Wells' image was staring up at both of them, and Clarke was going to ask how Madi was doing. It was a stupid question, but it was a question that needed to be asked. A question Clarke needed an answer to, but Madi was inviting Bellamy in to avoid being alone with Clarke, and Clarke would let Madi have this because she was guilty of doing the same thing to Wells after her dad died.

It seemed fair.

“I mean you did buy the pizza. It wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t get a slice.”

“I don’t know.” Bellamy chanced a look at Clarke. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, it’s fine,” Madi answered quickly, and Clarke knew Madi really did not want to be alone with her. It hurt a little. “Come in. I’ll grab the plates.”

“You sure this is okay?” Bellamy asked in a whisper once Madi has dropped the box of pizza on the coffee table and disappeared into the kitchen. “Because if it isn’t, I can come up with a reason to go.”

“It’s okay. It’s probably best if you stayed.” Clarke didn’t provide him with any further explanation.

It took all of ten minutes for Madi to disappear into her room with her music turned up higher than before. She gave an excuse of having to work on homework, and when Clarke pointed out that it was Friday, Madi changed gears and said she had a project she needed to start on.

Clarke didn’t argue.

She let Madi retreat to her room and threw her head back with a loud groaned once Madi vanished behind the closed door. Being around a teenager who refused to talk to her was hard enough (and Clarke was starting to come to the realization of what she put Wells through and owed him an apology once they met again wherever it was the soul went after death), but now she was alone in her living with Bellamy.

“You know you don’t have to stay. She’s gone to her room for the night,” Clarke popped her head up and snapped it in the direction of Bellamy, “but don’t let her hear you call it her room. She shuts down. I made the mistake of doing that her second night here, and she slept on the couch for two nights.”

“Duly noted.”

“I’m serious though you don’t have to stay. I get it. All this,” she moves her hand in circles towards the pizza that was now missing a quarter of it, “was for Madi. I appreciate it. Thank you, really.”

Bellamy slid his plate onto the table and dust his hands on his jeans. “It was for Madi, but it was also for you. I wanted to see how you were doing.” He shook his head. “That was stupid. Obviously, you’re still struggling, but on the way to the hospital, you were out of it. I’ve been meaning to check in on you, but I didn’t know how.”

“What?” Clarke sat up and untucked her legs so her feet hit the ground. “You were with me when I went to the hospital?”

“Clarke, I drove you. When you came out of your apartment that night, you didn’t even have shoes on. I just, I couldn’t let you drive.” Bellamy stared at her and there was a glint in her eyes that she couldn’t place.

He had stared at her with rage, annoyance, any emotion that stemmed from not being able to be within a foot of someone, but the way he was looking at her now was new. She didn’t like it, but that was because she didn’t like the way it made her feel.

“I, I didn’t know.”

Clarke had assumed she had gotten to the hospital driving on auto-piolet. It wasn’t the safest thing, but the sleepless nights she went through in medical school she lost count of the number of times she had driven from point A to B with no remembrance of it. She thought it had happened that night, but no.

Bellamy had driven her.

“Thank you.”

“It was no problem.”

“Bellamy,” Clarke reached out to touch his arm, “really, thank you.”

He looked down at where her hand laid on his skin, and so did she. His skin was warm under her fingers. She almost didn’t want to move it, and that’s the very reason why she did.

“I don’t remember much of that night. I remember getting the phone call from my mom. She said there was a car accident, and I should get to the hospital to say goodbye because it didn’t look good. I remember throwing my phone, and after that, it’s kind of blank. It, it was like after my dad died, but I had Wells then. Now,” she felt the first tear slide down her cheek, and she hastily wiped it away, “he’s gone too. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to throw that on you.”

“It’s okay. I lost my mom when I was 19, and I understand. I had my sister, but I had to be strong for her.”

His eyes met Clarke’s again, and for the first time, she saw more than an ordinary brown that she usually saw. In the lighting in her apartment, they were a hickory brown, but they still felt light despite the darkness of them. Clarke could only imagine how his eyes would look under the light of the bright sun.

“I’m sorry.”

“It was a long time ago.” He paused for a moment and looked like he was having a battle within himself as he weighed the pros and cons of something out. His lips parted only to snap shut. Clarke wanted to tell to him to just spit it out, but they were having a conversation that hadn’t yet turned into them trying to talk over each other. It was pleasant despite the topic being grim.

Clarke didn’t want it to end, so she didn’t let it.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean the pain really goes away.”

“It’s doesn’t, and I can only imagine what it feels like to have the loss of two people weighing on you. I have my sister, and I don’t know what I would do if something happened to her. What I’m trying to say is if you want to talk or you just don’t want to be alone, I’m here for you.”

Clarke could come up with a snide remark, but she didn’t want to break the moment. So, she let the silence linger between them as they both reach for their pizza. She stole glances at him, and each time she did he was already looking at her with eyes that were too focused with too much intensity behind them.

* * *

As the next couple of weeks passed, Madi started to spend more time outside of her room. Just the other day she referred to the room as hers, and Clarke had let herself cry about it that night while she laid in her bed. For the first time since Madi moved in, Clarke felt like she was doing something right. And, it felt…nice.

She had started cooking real dinners for Madi, using recipes she found online. She had started asking Madi about her day, and without much probing, Madi had let slip that there was a boy named Ethan in her history class that she may or may not have a crush on.

Before Wells died, Madi and Clarke were close. Clarke had picked up Madi from school just because she wanted to spend time with the teen. They would get dinner sometimes just the two of them, and some Saturday nights Madi was spending the night at Clarke’s apartment. When Madi got mad at Wells, or she thought he was being unfair, she would come running to Clarke and Clarke would have open arms for Madi.

But everything changed.

Sure, Madi was coming around and started talking to Clarke like she once did, but it was all about superficial things. Clarke needed to know how Madi was doing with everything.

There were nights Clarke had cried herself to sleep and called Wells’ old number just to hear his voicemail, and she dreaded the night she’d call and the number would be disconnected. But if Clarke was taking it this hard, she knew Madi was doing worse than she was letting on.

Like Clarke told Thelonious the day Madi moved in, she understood what Madi was going through. Clarke may have lost her best friend, but Madi lost the man she knew as her dad.

Clarke was lucky enough to witness the first time Madi had called Wells dad. It had been two months since Wells return to the states, and Clarke had gone over for dinner. It was the three of them sitting around the dining table. Madi had spaghetti sauce all over her face, and Wells had laughed as he wiped Madi’s face. And, Madi, her sweet six year old self, smiled at Wells, showing that she was missing a front tooth, and said _thanks, daddy,_ as she shoveled more spaghetti in her mouth.

The look of utter joy on Wells' face as he stared down at Madi in awe was enough for Clarke to want to rush home to capture the moment. Which she did with paint on a canvas and gifted it to Wells.

Wells was Madi’s dad, and that’s why Clarke knew Madi needed to talk eventually. Wells had been patient with Clarke and let her open up when she was ready, but Clarke didn’t feel like she should or could do that with Madi.

Wells was the one with patience.

Clarke never had any.

So, when Clarke picked up Madi after school on Thursday, Clarke had suggested they’d get takeout and fro-yo, making Madi give her quizzical look. Clarke knew that the teen had no idea she was going to get bombarded with questions once they got home. But she should have known that Madi would figure out something was off because Clarke wasn’t questioning her about her day like she usually did. Clarke had barely said hi to Madi when she got into the car because she knew what she had planned, and there were two ways it was going to end.

The first way, the one Clarke was hoping for, would be Madi’s willingness to talk and let everything out. That when Clarke assured Madi for the umpteenth time that she was there if the teen felt like talking about Wells, Madi would cry and Clarke would hold while holding back her own tears to be strong for Madi.

Clarke wanted to be hopeful, but realistically, she knew the second way was more plausible.

Madi would likely say she talks enough to her grief counselor, and Clarke wouldn’t believe it because it’s the lie she told Wells and Clarke would say as such. And at the mention of Wells’ name, it would only cause Madi to shut down or yell at Clarke. It was a tossup, but Clarke had prepared herself for both.

What Clarke hadn’t prepared herself for was Madi asking what Clarke was hiding the second Clarke closed the front door.

“I’m not stupid, Clarke. You’ve been all about eating better, and today we stop by the Chinese restaurant all the way across town to pick up dinner and stop to get frozen yogurt to eat on the way home. What gives?” Madi had thrown her backpack on the couch and put her attention on Clarke, and Clarke told herself she wouldn’t squirm under the stare of a 14 year old.

“Why don’t we eat first then after we’ll talk?”

Instead of going to the dining table to eat (a habit Clarke had tried to get into for the sake of Madi), she plopped herself on the couch dropping the food on the expresso coffee table. But Madi didn’t move. She didn’t even make a grab for the veggie rolls. She just hovered over Clarke frowning.

“No, I think we should talk now.”

Clarke ran her hand down her face and huffed. “Fine. I wanted to talk to you about Wells.”

Madi crossed her arms, and Clarke guessed what side the coin would be landing on. Madi looked like she was preparing for a battle, and Clarke really didn’t want to fight.

“When my dad died, I didn’t want to talk about it either. And Wells, he, he waited and waited for me to come to him, but I never did. So, he took it upon himself to come to me, and that’s what I’m doing. I’m coming to you and telling you that I’m here. That you aren’t alone. That I understand.”

At those words, Madi started to shake her head. Her chin began to tremble, but her arms were still crossed protecting herself, and there was anger swirling in her eyes making the blue of her eyes look like a storm was coming.

“No, you don’t.”

“Madi, I lost my dad too.”

“But you still had your mom!” she shouted and threw her arms apart. “Wells, my dad, came to my village right after my mom had died, and he watched over me. I don’t know who my birth father is, and I don’t care because Wells is, was my dad. And, now I have no one.”

“You have me.” Clarke shot up, but Madi took a step away from her. “And you have Thelonious. You aren’t alone.”

“It feels like it! I’m in this new apartment. This new room. And, you’re here,” Madi franticly gestures to Clarke, “pretending to be like him. But you aren’t! You can’t replace him.”

Tears were racing down Madi’s cheek, and Clarke’s heart was breaking at the sight. She wanted to pull the girl into her arms, but something like that would only tip Madi more over the edge.

“I’m not trying to replace him. I’m just trying to take care of you. If you want to move back, we will. We’ll do it tomorrow. You can be back in your home, in your room.”

“No.” There was a finality to Madi’s tone, but Clarke couldn’t stop.

“If it’ll help, we’ll do it.”

Madi said nothing as she shook her head and held her arms tightly around herself. Clarke hated that the teen felt like she had to shield herself.

“Madi, I just want to help you. If moving—”

“I said no!”

“Then tell me what to do. Talk to me. Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

The frustration was building in Clarke, and the smart thing to do was to drop it. To eat the food while it was still warm, and maybe talk Madi into watching a movie before she locked herself away in the void of her room for the night.

But Clarke was never one to walk away from something. (Well, as long as it didn’t involve her feelings.)

“No, Madi, I think—”

“Want to know what I think?” Madi cut Clarke off and dropped her arms to her sides, but Clarke saw the whiteness in her knuckles as she held her hands in tight fist. “I think you’re trying to play the role of my mom, but I already had a mom. I don’t need another one.”

“You think that is what I’m doing?” Clarke questioned, but there was a hint of irritability in her tone. Madi was deflecting, and it was maddening. The wise decision would be to end this conversation. Nothing good ever came from words that surfaced from negative emotions, but being in a negative headspace threw all rationality out the wind.

So, Clarke didn’t stop.

“I wasn’t even sure if I ever even wanted kids. And now, I’m stuck with one.”

The words left Clarke’s mouth, and she hated herself for it, especially when it looked like the words slapped Madi across the face as she stumbled back.

“Wait, Madi, I didn’t mean that. I just meant—”

“No, I think you did,” Madi interrupted her. “I’m sorry I came and disrupted your life.” And with that, Madi snatched up her backpack and left down the hall to her bedroom. Although, Clarke was almost certain Madi didn’t consider the room hers.

Clarke had royally fucked up, and she had no idea how to fix it. When she found herself in a situation and had no idea how to get herself out of it, she went to Wells. Not because he held the answers. Sometimes he had was just as lost for words as she was, but he always said (no matter the circumstances Clarke found herself in) that he was always there for her. The assurance that she wasn’t ever really alone was always enough for her, but she couldn’t even do for Madi what Wells did for her.

There was a 14 year old who had locked herself in a room, feeling alone, and Clarke had only made it worse by making Madi feel like she was unwanted when that was far from the truth.

What Clarke said about not knowing if she ever wanted children may have been true, but she wasn’t struck with Madi. Ever since Madi had come into her life, Clarke had felt like the hole she had in her heart since her dad had died had filled in some. Madi had brought a light Clarke hadn’t known she was missing. Madi was anything but a burden in Clarke’s life, and Clarke failed to show this to her. And, she wasn’t sure if she could come back from it.

Almost half an hour later, the creaking of a door opening filled the quiet apartment making Clarke stand from her spot on the couch. The food still left untouched in the tied plastic bag on the table with Madi’s empty froyo cup.

“Madi,” Clarke breathed out the teen’s name, but Madi said nothing as she brushed passed Clarke and headed towards the front door.

“My grandpa is here. I’m going to be staying with him,” Madi said and closed the door behind her.

Once the door shut, the tears came and Clarke couldn’t stop them. And, the only person she was upset with was herself.

At least that’s what she told herself because she wouldn’t admit out loud that she was mad at Wells for dying. For promising that he’d always be around. For leaving Madi to her without letting her know until after his death. But she knew this was unfair and irrational to be mad at a dead man, and that was what she was thinking when she reached for the picture of her and Wells from their high school graduation.

Their arms were slung over each other’s shoulders laughing, but instead of looking at the camera, they were looking at each other. Clarke remembered her dad being the one to take the picture, but she couldn’t remember what happened to make them laugh. If she closed her eyes, she could hear Wells laughing so hard he snorted and see her dad’s smile from behind the camera.

Tears dropped onto the glass frame, and the loneliness from missing her dad and missing Wells was all too overwhelming. She’d never been one to manage grief well. If there was a way to avoid feeling the ache that came with it, Clarke found it and latched onto it. And, her way out of feeling the pain now was focusing on the rage she had ignored.

Without thinking, she launched the picture frame at the wall as she yelled, “fuck”. And as quickly as the frame left her hands, she rushed over, moved around the broken glass, and picked up the bare picture.

She held it to her chest mumbling “sorry” over and over again and couldn’t hear when someone walked in. She only flinched when she felt someone touch her shoulder.

“Bellamy?” Her voice quivered.

“You weren’t answering, and your door was unlocked. What’s happened?” His eyes scanned the mess on the ground, and Clarke watched as his eyes softened when they met Clarke’s blotchy blue eyes.

“I screwed up, Bellamy,” she said just a sob racked through her body.

Clarke didn’t know where the warmth came from, but she wasn’t going to question it because she hadn’t felt this type of warmth since Wells had died.

She knew she was being led to the couch, and even as she sat, the warmth didn’t leave her. It was when she looked around that she saw Bellamy sitting close to her with his arm over her shoulder holding her close.

“Madi left,” Clarke whispered. “I made her feel unwanted, and she left. Wells asked me for one thing, and I couldn’t even do that.”

“That’s not true.” Clarke swung her head back and forth in disagreement. “Clarke, look at me.”

But Clarke kept her gaze on the ground, and Bellamy gently tucked his fingers under her chin so his eyes met hers.

“You didn’t fail. Trust me.”

“How do you know?”

“Because when I’m out on the balcony and her window is open, I can hear her talking to someone on the phone. So, I’m telling you, you didn’t fail.”

“Then why won’t she talk to me?” Clarke sniffled.

Bellamy scoffed, and Clarke tried to pull away, but he tightened his hold. “The same reason you haven’t talked to anyone. When I said I was here for you, I meant it.”

Clarke’s eyes scanned his face. She wasn’t sure what she was looking for. A sign of sincerity? A sign of pity? An answer? Something to explain why he was sitting with her and comforting her when just a month ago it seemed like all they could do was rile each other up.

“Talk to me, Clarke.”

She gazed into his earthy brown eyes. “Why are you here?”

“I was coming in when Madi was leaving, and when I got to our floor, I heard something hit the wall and you yelling. I assumed there was a connection and wanted to check on you.”

Clarke squirmed under his stare, and even though she didn’t want to leave the comfort of his touch, she wanted to leave this conversation, so she stood up from her spot and said, “Actually, I should probably go clean the glass before someone hurts themselves.”

But before she could take a step, Bellamy reached out to stop her.

The feeling of ecstasy that ran through Clarke made her freeze. Bellamy’s hand was able to circle around her wrist, and she could feel the callous of his hands. Clarke looked up, and Bellamy must have been startled by the same feelings because he recoiled his hand with a quick shake of his head.

“That can wait. Talk to me.”

“What do you want me to say, Bellamy? You want to hear how much I miss Wells. How sometimes it hurts to breathe. Or do you want to hear how the reason I threw the frame was that I’m mad at him? I’m mad at my dead best friend because he left me. He wasn’t supposed to leave me. He promised he wouldn’t.”

“It’s okay to feel whatever you’re feeling.”

“But it’s not! He’s not, he’s not here to defend himself because if, if he was, if he could, he’d show up with cookie dough ice cream smiling,” Clarke laughed through her tears as she imagined Wells throwing open her door. “I could never stay mad at him long when he smiled. Madi said his smile always made everything better, and it’s true.”

“Tell me about him.” Bellamy slid over on the couch putting enough room between them if Clarke decided to sit on the other end.

She did.

“You want to hear about Wells?”

“Yeah. I met him a couple of times, and one of those times he teased you with me about your horrible music taste when I came over to tell you to turn it down.” He smiled, and Clarke allowed herself to stare at it.

“Well, he and I grew up together. He was the brother I never had.” Clarke pulled her knees to her chest and rested her head against them as she looked at Bellamy. “There was this one time I think we were eight. We were having a sleepover at my house. It was summertime, and we had decided we wanted to camp in the backyard. The only rule my mom had given us was that we weren’t allowed to climb up to the treehouse in the middle of the night.”

Clarke had started laughing to herself and used her knees to muffle the sound. When she finally looked back at Bellamy, he was already looking at her with a grin.

“Let me guess, you climbed the tree?”

“Of course, I did. And, Wells followed up. He was freaking out the entire time,” Clarke giggled. “We would have gotten away with it had Wells been able to lie. I had gotten in trouble, and it’s how Wells bringing me cookie dough ice cream became his way of apologizing.”

“I’m assuming cookie dough ice cream is your favorite?”

Clarke sat up and tucked her legs under herself. “It really isn’t. It’s cookies ‘n’ cream, but when he asked his dad to get the ice cream, his dad picked up cookie dough instead. But it became his way of apologizing.”

She took a deep breath. “I miss him,” she said as she exhaled. “I just wish I had more time with him.”

“It still wouldn’t have been enough.”

“I know.”

A beat passed before Clarke spoke his name to which he responded to with a low hum.

“Why are you doing this?”

“What do you mean?”

“Why are you here and comforting me?”

Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck and grinned mostly to himself. His eyes hadn’t met Clarke’s yet, but she was ready for the butterflies that’ll swarm her stomach when they do.

He looked, and the flutter came.

“You haven’t been painting. When you go out on your balcony to paint, you sing or hum. I haven’t heard you since—” he stopped himself from finishing the sentence, so Clarke did.

“Since Wells died.”

Bellamy nodded.

“It’s hard. He was the one who pushed me to pursue being an artist. I was in my final year of medical school, and I had gone to him one night and cried while he held me. I told him how miserable I was, and he told me to quit.”

“Just like that?”

Clarke smiled because she knew how out of character that sounded for Wells. Bellamy barely knew Wells, and he seemed to pick up on it as well. Clarke would admit she was flabbergasted how easily and quickly Wells told her to walk away from something she had invested almost eight years of her life in, but he was always about her happiness.

“Yeah, and a week later I was dropping out and moving in with him and Madi while I was figuring out my next step. He was always there for me, and the one time he really needed something for me I messed it up. Bellamy, I don’t think Madi’s going to forgive me.”

“She will,” he said. There was a certitude in his voice that Clarke wanted to believe him. “I once told my sister my life ended the day she was born.”

“Ouch.” Clarke didn’t mean to cringe, but he nodded along.

“Yeah, it wasn’t my brightest moment. But she forgave me, and we’re closer than ever now.”

“Would it be too much if I go after her now? She thinks I don’t want her, but that’s not true.”

“You could try, but I guarantee that she’ll think you’re doing it out of obligation and won’t believe anything you say. Maybe give her today.”

Clarke dropped her head to look at her hands in her lap and nodded even though she wasn’t sure she could wait.

“I raised my sister. My mom worked a lot, and neither one of our dads were in the picture. And when my mom died, O was only 14. But even before then, she was my responsibility. Teenager girls are difficult, but you should know that.” He nudged her. “You were one. I bet you were a troublemaker.”

He smiled and wrinkles formed at the corners of his eyes. He looked beautiful in this moment, and Clarke stared at him for a second too many because she wanted to make sure she could capture this in her memory to draw later.

“Only a little bit.” He raised his eyebrows. “Okay, maybe more than a little bit. But Wells was always there to reel me in.”

“Well, Madi seems like she’s a spitfire.”

Clarke threw her head back. “She is. This is Wells’ way of getting back at me for everything. He’s laughing at me from his grave.” She giggled, and immediately covered her mouth. “That was not supposed to funny,” she said with a smile still tugging on her lips.

“But it was.”

Without thinking (she didn’t want to talk herself out of it), Clarke reached forward and wrapped her arms around Bellamy’s neck. His body stiffened, but she didn’t let go.

Clarke whispered, “Thank you…again, for everything.”

At her words, his arms had come up to wrap around her.

“I told you. I’m here for you.”

* * *

The next day Clarke made the decision to pick Madi up early from school because she couldn’t wait. She listened to Bellamy and gave Madi yesterday but waiting any longer seemed impossible. Plus, waiting was bound to do more damage than good.

So, she picked up Madi from school at noon, and the two of them sat in silence while Clarke drove to the destination.

There was a sense of déjà vu. The car was silent except for the music coming from the radio, and she was sure if Madi didn’t have her earphones in, she would be chastised for her choice in music. Clarke was only hoping it wouldn’t end the same way. As long as Madi kept her head buried in her phone, Clarke could avoid the argument—at least until she stopped the car.

But Clarke should have known, she should have prepared for the worst instead of only hoping for the best because of course, Madi would look up just as Clarke was entering her old neighborhood.

“What are you doing?” Madi asked as she yanked out her earphones, but Clarke didn’t answer. “Clarke, I don’t want to go back there.”

Still, Clarke said nothing. She drove down roads and felt Madi’s glare at the side of her face.

“If you think this is going to get me to talk, it isn’t going to work.”

Madi was met with silence.

It was when Clarke pulled into the driveway, Madi had begun to beg.

“Please, Clarke, let’s just go back to your apartment.” Her voice trembled, and Clarke dropped her head.

“I’m going to go inside, and I’ll wait for as long as you’ll need.” Clarke pulled the keys out of the ignition and cast one last look at Madi before walking up the few steps that led to the front door of Madi and Wells’ home.

Wells had left the house to Madi, but because she was only a minor Thelonious was the trustee, and he promised it would be waiting for her as soon as she decided she was ready for it. It was her home. The only home she had known since she came to the states. Clarke knew it would be painful for Madi to live here without Wells, but it didn’t feel right to have Madi living somewhere she couldn’t call home.

This was home for Madi, and she needed to face it.

Clarke entered the house. She wasn’t sure what she was expecting. The house was bare, but she didn’t feel the coldness that came with an empty house. When she opened the door, the same homey feeling that always engulfed her did.

She could imagine Wells opening the door for her and smiling, or Madi opening the door and wasting no time to hug her, or Clarke letting herself in only to trip over Madi’s shoes that she left by the door even though Wells reminded her time and time again to take them to her room.

The house was bare, but the memories lingered in the walls.

“It still feels like home.”

Clarke had hoped Madi would follow her in, but she didn’t think it would be so soon.

“Were you expecting it not to?”

Madi shrugged. She walked around the empty living room. Her hand ran along the wall. Even from a distance, Clarke could see the daze in Madi’s eyes.

“I didn’t expect to still feel him here. There’s nothing, but I see him everywhere.”

Madi walked over near the chimney and looked up. There was a spot on the wall about the size of a football. It looked like it had been plastered over and then painted to match the rest of the pale blue wall, but the paint along with the wall was uneven.

“Dad tried to hang a picture here, and he missed the nail. There was a hole the size of my fist,” Madi held up her closed hand. “He spent the whole day trying to fix it, but he had no idea what he was doing. Pieces of the wall kept chipping away. I told him we should call someone whose job it was to fix this kind of thing, but he was so sure he could fix it.”

She laughed. It was so quiet. Clarke was sure she wasn’t meant to hear it. It was supposed to be a silent laugh for Wells’ ears only wherever he was now.

“I showed him a video on I found online, and even then, it took him an hour. After everything was set, he let me paint over it. I think it was only because he knew how much I hated this color. You know he only picked this color because I decided I wanted my room black. He said we needed a balance in the house.”

Madi scoffed, but Clarke heard the smile behind it. This was the most Madi had spoken to Clarke about Wells, and Clarke was going to stay as still as possible. She was afraid to make any sound that might break Madi’s ramblings, but when Madi turned around, there wet trails on her cheeks. That was when Clarke timidly took a step forward. Madi didn’t move, so Clarke closed the gap between them and encased Madi in her arms.

“Everything hurts all the time,” Madi said against Clarke’s skin, and Clarke ran her fingers down Madi’s long dark hair.

“I know it does, but do you want to know something?” Clarke could feel the wetness from Madi’s tears.

“It gets better,” Clarke said, but Madi shook her head against Clarke. “I promise it does. I’m not promising the pain is going to go away because it doesn’t. It always going to hurt. Holidays and the big moments he should have been there for are going to be reminders that the ache is still there. But the way it hurts now. The way it hurts to breathe, to keep living, that pain does away with time.”

Madi pulled slightly away to meet Clarke’s eyes, and Clarke let go of Madi for a second to wipe the wetness from her face.

“How long?”

“I don’t know, but I do know it helped me to talk about my dad. To lean on the people that were there for me. To cry when I felt like crying. I’m here for you, Madi.”

Madi was quiet, but she held onto Clarke tightly. So, if Madi wanted to stay here for hours on end, crying in her arms, Clarke would give that to her. Clarke would give anything to Madi if it led her down the road to healing.

Madi sniffled and pulled away just enough to look up at Clarke.

“If, if you really don’t want me—”

“I’m not going to let you finish that because I shouldn’t have said that. I want you with me. Wells wanted you with me.”

Madi buried her face against Clarke. “I’m sorry for everything I said yesterday.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Clarke kissed the top of Madi’s head. “I do need to ask you something, though, and I need you to be honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want to move back here? I was being serious about moving here with you. You’ll be in your room, and I’ll move back to my old room.”

Madi squeezed Clarke before she let. Clarke watched as the teen walked down the hall that led to the room that was once Wells’, but when she stood outside the door, she froze.

Without opening the door, she turned to meet Clarke’s gaze. “Can we leave his room empty until I’m ready to go in there? I just, I don’t think I can see it empty yet. But,” she glanced at the door then back to Clarke, “I want to come home.”

* * *

It took two days for Clarke and Madi to move everything from the apartment to the house, another two for them to get everything unpacked, bedrooms settled in, and furniture in place, and one day for the neighbors next door to come over.

“I got it,” Madi shouted, and Clarke knew this was the right decision to make.

“Madi! You’re back.” Clarke heard someone speak as she walked down the hall.

“Yeah. Me and my aunt actually.” Madi looked behind her as Clarke came into view. “Clarke, this is Octavia. She lives next door.”

The brunette on the other side of the door held out her hand, and Clarke saw a familiarity in her that she couldn’t place.

“Hi,” Octavia said, “nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Clarke shook her hand and released it. “Is it just you who lives next door?”

“Oh, no. Me and my husband moved in about a month before,” she started and looked at Madi and shook her head. It was all Clarke needed to fill in the open ended sentence. 

Before Wells died.

“Anyways, he’s away on a business trip right now. I was going to wait until he came back, but I thought I saw this one,” Octavia poked Madi side, and Madi swatted her hand away as she laughed, “through the window, and I had to come over to check to make sure I wasn’t going crazy.”

As her neighbor spoke, Clarke had been studying her face. There was something about Octavia that made Clarke feel like she had met her neighbor before, but Clarke was sure if she had met someone named Octavia, she would have likely remembered that.

“Do I know you from somewhere?” Clarke asked, and Octavia looked away from Madi who had started laughing.

“No,” Madi answered for Octavia. “But you know her brother.”

“You know, Bell? Wait,” Octavia’s eyes widened. “Clarke? As in princess Clarke? Oh, shit!” She laughed, and now both Madi and Octavia were laughing, and Clarke knew she must have been missing something.

“Can someone fill me in?”

But before someone either one could do so, someone had shouted for Octavia, who had responded with a loud, “over here.”

When she saw a dark curly head through the empty space through the tree branches, her question was answered before the person came into view.

“Bellamy?” Clarke questioned, and he smiled at her.

And, Clarke allowed herself to smile back and didn’t fend off the buoyancy that slowly flooded through her.

“I told you I would be seeing you again,” he said as he walked up the few steps and stopped next to Octavia. Clarke noted that the smile never left his lips, and his eyes never left hers. “Although, I was sure I’d have to show up at the galley to find you.”

“You, you were going to look for me?”

Octavia scoffed. “Why do you sound surprised? It’s always Clarke this, Clarke that. I’m telling you, my brother—”

She was cut off as Bellamy darted his hand out to cover his sister's mouth.

“You talk about me?” Clarke smirked, and there was a tint of red that shade his cheeks.

Clarke could tease him. God did she want to, but the excitement coerced through her, and she couldn’t completely understand why. This was Bellamy Blake. Her once neighbor that she yelled at because he yelled at her. He was infuriating.

But he was also kind.

He had shown Clarke a kindness she needed but didn’t want to ask her. He held her when she cried, comforted when she needed it. He has been there for her just like he said he would. He may be an asshole half the time, but Clarke knew there was so much more to him.

“She talks about you too,” Madi piped in, and Clarke whipped her head at the smirking teen.

“Do you, now?” Bellamy grinned, and it was Clarke’s turn to blush.

Clarke cleared her throat. “I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Good, because I have no idea what O was talking about.”

Bellamy and Clarke continued to smile at each other, and it was Octavia’s groaning and Madi’s snickering that broke the moment.

“I think we should get going if we don’t want to be late,” Bellamy said to Octavia, who nodded and turned her attention to Clarke and chanced one look at her brother before she opened her mouth.

“We’re going to the movies. Do you guys want to come?”

Clarke looked to Bellamy, and he was nervously rubbing the back of his neck. She tried (and miserably failed) to not stare of the size of his arms.

Then she looked at Madi.

Clarke would like to be a dark theater with Bellamy. They’d sit next to each other maybe, and their arms would brush. They would move them, but it would keep happening, so they’d just let their skin touch, and Clarke would be sure butterflies would be swarming around her stomach. It would feel like she was in high school all over again.

It would be nice

But Madi was looking at her like she was looking forward to an evening alone with Clarke as they continued their latest binge of Lost on Netflix.

It was an easy choice.

“Maybe next time,” she said, and a smile spread across Madi’s lips.

“I’ll hold you to that,” Bellamy said.

Clarke stood in the doorway as she watched the siblings walk away, and she was glad she did because when Bellamy looked over his shoulder, he smiled at her, and it made her heart beat a little bit faster.

Once the door closed, Clarke followed Madi to the living room.

“You know, dad thought you and Bellamy would eventually date.”

Clarke had known that. Wells had pushed her once or twice, maybe trice, to ask Bellamy out on a date. He insisted that the fiery arguments between Bellamy and Clarke had to stem from somewhere, and it wasn’t hatred because he said their eyes had told another story.

“You want to know something else?”

Clarke looked at Madi and nodded in response.

“Dad was never wrong.”

Yeah, Clarke knew that too.

But now wasn’t the time to think about that. Right now, Clarke wanted to enjoy time with Madi since it seemed like they were finally settled in.

Madi plopped herself onto the sofa, and Clarke followed suit.

Clarke watched as Madi’s eyes scanned the living room. The wall was still painted the blue Madi hated, but only until the weekend. Madi had asked if they could paint the wall a color that has yet to be decided, and Clarke agreed. There were pictures hanging on the walls. Some were there before, and some were new. Like Clarke’s paintings that Madi insisted she hang up since this was now her home too.

Madi grabbed the remote and said, “Okay, so where did we leave off?”

And, yeah, Clarke didn’t think she’d ever want to become a mom, but to have a kid like Madi, maybe being a mom wouldn’t be so bad.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think!   
> Comments and kudos make my day!


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